In My Imagination
by SilverMooonshine
Summary: Buying a birthday card isn't as simple a task as it might seem... Especially when your boyfriend is Neville Longbottom and his family still don't know about you.


**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter, much to my dismay.**

 **Written for the QLFC** **Round 10: Forbidden Relationships** **  
Position:** Harpies, Chaser 2  
 **Prompts:  
** Relationship between members of different houses.  
4\. (word) careless  
12\. (word) anatomy  
14\. (word) euphoria  
 **Word Count:** 2,412

 **Thank you to Lizzie for not only being a superstar beta but also inspiring one of the characters in this (my favourite character obviously).**

 **As much as I'd love to say that this isn't based on my life, I must not tell lies... Enjoy!**

* * *

Hannah Abbott stared at the rows and rows of cards, all screaming _that word_. Not 'boyfriend;' she'd just about gotten used to that label. But _love_.

When they'd gone back to Hogwarts for their eighth year, she'd been over the moon to find a friend in Neville Longbottom. With his newfound hero status, he was happy to hide away in the Herbology sheds to get away from it all. And getting away from it all had been just what she needed.

She couldn't count the hours they'd spent, chatting long into the night as darkness fell around them. If Professor Sprout knew they were there, she chose to turn a blind eye. They needed those nights to heal one another, with memories of the living and the dead. With hopes for the future and the fears that came with them. With friendship.

But as spring had turned to summer, they both knew it was more than a friendship they shared. Each felt a reliance on the other, an interdependence sprinkled with a large amount of attraction. The night that they admitted it to each other, surrounded by the smell of damp earth and exotic flowers as they'd agreed to swap secrets, was a night of first kisses for both of them. Lying in her bed later on, Hannah had silently admitted to herself that she might just love Neville Longbottom.

That was what had bought her here, a month later and still silent on the matter of love. It was far too soon, she told herself, and besides, they'd expressed their feelings in other ways.

The night she'd cried over not being good enough for her family, for Hogwarts, for _him_ , he'd looked her straight in the eyes and told her she was perfect. She'd wanted to kiss him again then,her lips hungry after that first taste. But she was too upset, too scared to initiate it. So the moment slipped by, like so many others, and they'd settled back into their comfortable silence.

When they'd left for the end of the year, she'd almost said it. She'd practically read the words in his eyes before they'd closed and he'd pressed his lips to hers in the empty carriage. He'd made sure the blinds were drawn—neither of them was ready for to be the centre of more gossip. Though the walls between the Houses had begun to break down after the war, relationships between members of different Houses was rare, and so the news of one would have spread like wildfire.

It was also the reason, Hannah suspected as she browsed the cards, that Neville had yet to tell his grandmother about her. It was no secret that Neville's Gran been incredibly proud of her grandson after the Battle of Hogwarts. She'd begun to plan his future, speaking of dreams that he would become an Auror and marry another Auror: a husband and wife duo like his parents. It was clear to Hannah that a relationship with a Hufflepuff did not fit into Augusta Longbottom's plans.

She pulled card after card off the shelf, skimming over them. _Love, love, love._ Even though, so deep in her heart that she wasn't ready to admit in to herself again quite yet, she knew she loved Neville, she also knew she sure as hell didn't want the first time she told him to be on a cheesy birthday card.

Her eyes, roaming the shelves despairingly, landed on a bright blue card near the bottom of the shelf. She pulled it out, grinning when she saw a lack of flowers and hearts.

 _To my boyfriend on your birthday,_

"Good start," she thought to herself. "He is my boyfriend. It's his birthday."

 _You can always make me smile,_

Again, true. Even the thought of him tugged at the corners of her lips.

 _And always make me laugh._

He was pretty good at that, too. Hannah's heart skipped, relieved to have finally found a card she could buy.

 _And you look great in your boxers!_

"For Merlin's sake," she muttered to herself as she shoved the card back into its place. Before she'd entered the Muggle card shop (having found nothing suitable in any wizard in any wizarding store), she'd vowed to herself that she'd leave with a card. It was his birthday tomorrow, after all. It was now or never.

But so far, it was proving impossible. The one card without the l-word in sight, and it had to be vulgar. Yes, she was attracted to him in that way, but they'd only kissed twice! She'd never even come close to seeing other parts of his... anatomy.

"Han!"

Hannah looked up just in time to see her friend Lizzie running toward her. Her fellow Hufflepuff nearly knocked her off her feet in a hug and began chattering away.

"It's so good to see you! I got to your house a bit early, but they told me you were out shopping so I came to find you. I couldn't wait a second longer! It's mad that it's only been two weeks since we left Hogwarts— I missed you so much already! What are you looking for?" she asked, as if suddenly taking in their surroundings for the first time.

"Neville's birthday card," Hannah replied with a sigh. "They all seem to express undying love."

Lizzie nodded. "Far too early for that. There's not one that doesn't?"

"Just this one." Hannah thrust the card, one edge now slightly creased from her frustration, to her best friend.

As Lizzie read, a wicked glint came into her eyes. "I have an idea."

Statistically, Hannah knew that Lizzie's ideas were more likely to be bad than good. But with no other options, she gave in, and five minutes later they walked out of the shop with the bright blue of the card just visible through the thin material of the plastic bag in Hannah's hand.

...

She sat on her bed, long after Lizzie had left for home. Pen in hand, she stared at the card laid out on the purple sheets that she'd begged to be replaced this summer. For goodness sake, she was an adult now.

The inside of the card was filled with her swirling handwriting wishing Neville the best of birthdays and giving him a little joke to cheer him up. Not that she thought he'd be sad, but she hoped he'd be a little down considering they wouldn't be together on his birthday. His grandmother had organised a day out, and he didn't think it was the right time to introduce the two of them. It was never the right time.

Taking a deep breath, she closed the card so that the cover faced up. She stared at the words, wondering what had possessed her to do this. _And you look great in your boxers!_ She'd come up with with a million alternatives to persuade Lizzie, from charming that line invisible to crossing out boxers and writing 'pyjamas' to reference the time they'd both snuck out in the middle of the night. But Lizzie wouldn't budge, and deep in her heart Hannah knew it was by far the best option. Just underneath, in looping letters, she wrote the agreed upon words.

 _(Or at least in my imagination!)_

Casting a quick drying spell over the words so that they wouldn't smudge, she crammed it into the envelope as quickly as possible. Part of her couldn't believe she was going to give it to him. In fact, _all_ of her couldn't believe what she was doing. Sealing the envelope, she ran downstairs for the Floo powder before she could change her mind.

...

Neville's eyes were wide with shock as she appeared in the fireplace.

"Hannah, you can't be here, my grandmother will have heard that and be upstairs in a—"

She cut him off with a smile and hoped he couldn't see how much that comment hurt her. "I just came to wish you a happy birthday, and to give you this." She held out the card as the sound of footsteps started on the stairs.

"Oh, okay, thank you." Neville cast a worried glance at the door.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "I'm going."

(She liked to think he _tried_ to hide his relief.)

She stepped back into the fireplace and took a handful of powder from the shelf above. Speaking her destination, she suddenly realised she'd forgotten to pass on a message.

"Don't open it in front of anyone!" she called as she was swept up by the flames.

...

The next afternoon, she was woken from a nap by a tapping at her window. Forcing herself awake, she pushed it open to let in the little brown owl that had been responsible for the noise. She recognised it as the one that used to drop letters to Neville at Hogwarts, and her heart sunk at the realisation it belonged to his grandmother.

 _Dear Hannah,_ it read in a hand she was was relieved to find was Neville's.

 _My grandmother wanted me to use her owl to let you know that, as my girlfriend, you're invited to dinner next week._

 _I want_ ed _to use it to beg you to come and see you later, we have_ _a lot to talk about. I'll Apparate into yours as soon as_ _I can slip away._

 _Yours, Neville._

Underneath there was a single kiss.

As she finished reading, Hannah realised her heart rate had tripled since she'd read the first words. She knew a lot of it had to do with Neville's grandmother finding out about her, though she refused to wonder how she knew. But she'd be lying if she said it wasn't partly to do with the fact that Neville Longbottom would be in her room later that night.

...

Hannah stared at the dial of her watch in disbelief. 11:37 PM and still no sign of Neville. She was sure time was playing some trick on her; after all, it wasn't like Neville to be this late, but she was still surprised by how early it was considering how long she thought she'd been sat there for.

She wondered, not for the first time that night, whether she should just go to sleep and see Neville in the morning. Her eyelids were closing of their own accord when she heard a soft 'pop' next to her bed.

She sat bolt upright, for a minute forgetting why she had been waiting. Upon seeing him, however, she relaxed, and gestured to the bed for him to sit down.

"Sorry I'm so late," he murmured, pressing a scratchy kiss to her cheek. "I had to wait until all the family had left, and Aunt Mildred was insistent on finishing the entire bottle of sherry."

"It's okay." She smiled. "But why did you need to see me?"

Looking at the way his face clouded over, she almost wished she could take back the question.

"Well," he began. "I'm sure you've gathered from my letter that my grandmother knows about our relationship." He looked up to see her nodding, a suitably serious look in her eyes. "It was this morning, when I was opening all of my presents and things when my family arrived, and—well—the word 'boyfriend' was pretty big on your card, and my grandmother grabbed it and read it, and it sort of got passed around..."

His voice faded out as she felt herself pale. How could he have been so careless? She'd told him not to let anyone else see the card, and now his grandmother thought badly of her before they'd even met. But as quickly as her anger at him had come, it faded out. _She_ was the one who'd been been careless, and now the best thing in her life was going to be taken away.

She looked up at him, tears brimming in her eyes despite her best efforts. "So, are you here to tell me it's over?"

"Over?" The shock was plain in his voice. "Han, what are you talking about?"

"Well, I thought your grandmother wouldn't want us together. What with you being a hero and me being a Hufflepuff. I thought she'd told you that you had to—"

Her words were cut off by his lips on hers, pressing down to shut her up. As soon as her brain caught up and she began to enjoy it, they were suddenly gone again.

"Of course she didn't. I think she's actually a bit relieved. And apparently everyone in my family knew anyway, considering I never shut up about you. I should have told her sooner, but even after all that's happened—" he smiled sheepishly "—I'm still a bit of a coward when it comes to my grandmother."

Relief washed over her in waves, and a small giggle escaped her lips. "The mighty Neville Longbottom, scared of his own grandma!" she teased.

"Shut up." He grinned and reached out to tickle her until she was squirming beneath him.

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" she cried, forcing the words out between fits of laughter.

He relented, his hands catching hers and holding them still, while his eyes remained fixed on hers.

"I love you," he said, as if letting out a long-held secret.

"I love you too," she replied breathlessly, and there was a euphoria to the word. She broke free of his hold, looping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her.

His surprise faded quickly, and his lips moved hotly across hers while their tongues danced together. There was a new urgency to their kisses, in the hands that roamed over clothes and skin, and in the desperate gasps for breath when they could bear to pull apart.

Piece by piece, their clothing disappeared, until they lay only in their underwear with skin pressing together wherever it could touch.

There seemed to be an unwritten agreement between them that things would not go all the way—not tonight, anyway—as fingers trailed blazing paths over skin, only stopping when they met the barriers of material.

Hannah tore her mouth away from his and adorned his face with tiny kisses. She made her way down his neck, her hands splayed out on his chest as she planted kisses there that elicited gasps from his mouth. Pulling herself back up, she nibbled gently on his earlobe before whispering as softly as she could.

"My imagination was right."


End file.
